Kids & Parenting

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My niece challenged me to write a poem, more specifically entitled 'Underneath Friday Night Lights', while we were sitting underneath them. I know football is a huge USA sport, but I guess you'd have to live here to understand what it is that makes it so much bigger in Texas. Then again, it's been said that everything is bigger in Texas.

Under Those Friday Night Lights

There’s nothing quite like a small Texas town,
when half the population all gathers around,
shouting and cheering and clapping their hands --
painted faces and hotdogs in the football stands.

I yell and whistle with the best of them,
jumping up and hollering, “Somebody get him!”
Win or lose, we say, “We’re number one,” still.
It’s a Texas tradition, those Friday night thrills.

Beyond all the noise, even my own voice,
is constant hope that my boy made a brainy choice
when he chose to play in such a brute sport,
but I hide all that worry and give him support.

I’m sure that I’m not the only one there
that rubs the back of my neck to calm standing hair
every time my boy takes an intense hit.
But it’s all part of the game, that Friday night grit.

They’ve got to have guts, resilience and strength,
determination and courage to go the length.
They practice daily, give up their summers
to proudly wear their colors and sport their numbers.

But they know the risks and still love the light
when they run onto the field, hearing “Fight! Fight! Fight!”
That’s why they’re not ashamed to say they pray,
under those Friday night lights, just before they play.

There’s nothing quite like a small Texas town,
when half the population all gathers around,
shouting and cheering and clapping their hands --
painted faces and hotdogs in the football stands.
© Joyce Pool

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